I mentioned a lot of great artists in my last blog post, but one of them reminded me of a story I hadn’t thought of in a while. The person at the center of the story is Mr. Leonard Bernstein.
I didn’t grow up around classical music, but by the time I was in my twenties, I knew something about it, and was studying classical piano. I had come to view Leonard Bernstein in the way that most American music fans do – as one of the great American composers and conductors of the 20th century. After all, they don’t let just anyone direct the New York Philharmonic! So, when one of my teachers told me her spouse had played with Bernstein in Radio City Music Hall, I was pretty interested to hear more about it.
My teacher met her husband in a Broadway orchestra pit, and used to joke that it was when their careers were headed in opposite directions – hers was on the way up, and his was on the way down. He was a trumpet player in his mid-thirties at the time, and was beginning to suffer a common, aging trumpet player problem, losing your lip (warning: the link has some thorough, bordering on graphic descriptions of what can happen to your lips when playing trumpet, if you don’t take care of them). The linked article makes it sound like this can now be avoided with better care and training, but when my teacher described it to me, she made it sound like it was just an accepted fact of life for classical trumpet players over the age of 35 back then (which may well have been the case in the late 1950s). Never having played a wind instrument, it’s definitely not an area of my expertise.
Her husband had graduated from the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia. Although not as famous or well known as Julliard, it’s actually harder to attend, because you can only be admitted on full scholarship. As the Wikipedia entry states – it has a 4.8 percent admissions rate! After hearing all of this, I was even more eager to hear what my teacher’s husband had to say about playing with Leonard Bernstein. As best I can recall, the conversation went like this:
My teacher: “My husband didn’t have much to say about playing with Bernstein.”
Me: “Really?”
Her: “No, he wasn’t too fond of him.”
Me: “Why?”
Her: “Well, let’s just say that he, and most of the horn section, as well as a sizable portion of the orchestra had nicknamed him ‘Master of the obvious’.”
Me: “Wow!” (Me thinking, “OUCH!!!”) “They didn’t like his direction when it came to … dynamics? Or?”
Her: “I think it was a bit of everything.”
I decided it was probably best to leave it there. I finished saying goodbye and drove home. For the next couple of hours, I found myself trying to reconcile the image I’d always had of Bernstein, from everything I’d heard and read, with the second hand, but very truthful story I’d just been told. I’m not sure I’ve really completely resolved the cognitive dissonance yet. I think one of my current student’s parents who used to play in the San Diego Symphony, summed it up better than I can; “Well, Matt… we all know it’s only a matter of time until an orchestra turns on it’s conductor.” I guess that’s one more benefit of self employment.
May your nickname be more pleasant,
Matt
It's a Musical Life 